The Raven of Thedas
by Just My Moniker
Summary: Join Fylion Surana as she becomes a Grey Warden to fight the Fifth Blight.
1. The Harrowing

** Prologue: The Harrowing**

"Magic exists to serve man, never to rule over him. Thus spoke the Prophet Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium, ruled by mages who had brought the world to the edge of ruin." Knight Commander Greagoir's voice rang out across the vast chamber as he gestured towards the elf girl standing next to him, "You're magic, Fylion, is a gift, but it's also a curse. For demons of the dream realm, the Fade, will seek to use _you_ as a gateway into this world."

"This is why the Harrowing exists." First Enchanter Irving's gravelly voice interjected. He continued to speak as he paced over to stand next to the young apprentice,"The ritual sends you into the Fade and there you will face a demon, armed with only your will." Fylion moved her head slowly to look at the old man, her black hair falling around her face.

"I'm ready." She said coolly and turned her attention back to the glowing pedestal in the center of the large, circular room.

"Know this apprentice," Greagoir spoke,"if you fail we Templars will perform our duty...you will die." Fylion noted the small tone of regret in Greagoir's voice. The Knight Commander continued, "This is lyrium the very essence of magic and your gateway into the Fade." he gestured towards the pedestal.

"The Harrowing is a secret out of necessity, child." The First Enchanter added,"Every mage must go through this trial by fire and as we succeeded ,so shall you." Irving cast a look at Greagoir who gave a small nod, "Keep your wits about you Fylion and remember the Fade is a realm of dreams. The spirits may rule it, but your own will is real."

Fylion nodded at Irving's advice and strode forward. Moonlight from the windows cast an eery glow over the large room. Everything was silent save for the small swish of Fylion's robe over the stone floor as she walked. She stopped as she came before the pedestal filled with lyrium. The pale, blue liquid shone brilliantly.

The elf's placid face turned into a wolfish grin as she dipped her hand into the bowl and felt the lyrium activate at her touch. She had trained her whole life for this moment. She knew she would defeat this. Nothing stood in her way. Nothing ever could. Nothing ever did.

A white light flashed, and Fylion's Harrowing had begun.

* * *

**Author's note**: So I hope you all enjoyed it so far! This is my first fan fic so please forgive me if I made any mistakes. Please feel free to review and tell me what you think : ) More chapters to come soon


	2. Welcome to the Circle

**Chapter 1: Welcome to the Circle**

Fylion opened her eyes to the familiar wooden ceiling of her bunk. The air was cold; the coming of winter made sure of that. Her breath came out as steam as she yawned.

Sitting up, Fylion straightened her long, black hair. It was still early, slivers of early morning sunlight streaked the stone floor and many apprentices were still sleeping. The stone felt like ice beneath her bare feet but the young elf didnt mind. It was at least something to help her wake up. Fylion thought about using her mana to heat herself but that required more energy than the sleep-weary elf was willing to give. Glancing around , she noticed the usual early risers were up and about. Especially one certain apprentice now approaching Fylion.

"Youre awake!" Jowan chimed happily, his face widened into a stupid grin.

"How very astute of you, Jowan. Tell me: How _did_ you reach that conclusion?" Fylion said through a sigh.

"No need to be so tiffy. They took you in the middle of the night. Wouldnt tell me where thet were taking you. So, what—"

Fylion smirked,"It was a test of my ability is all. And I passed." She knew that Jowan would try to ask about the Harrowing. She might as well save time.

Jowan was silent for a minute waiting for Fylion to continue. When no further answer came he merely sighed. Fylion gave answers at her own time and only if she chose to. Jowan had learned that lesson a long time ago.

"Well at any rate, I should tell you that Irving wanted to see you as soon as you were up."

"That was expected." Fylion mumbled through a through a half-chewed piece of apple she had dug up out of the rucksack she kept at the end of her bed. She had managed to nab a dried apple from the mess hall the other day. Something she did every day so she didn't have to waste time in the crowded early morning line.

Fylion turned and left for the door without even uttering a goodbye.

"Erm...bye!" Jowan called after her. She raised a single hand in recognition without looking back and turned right into the large hallway.

She made her way down the curving hallway past the rest of the dormitories. Some of the more productive apprentices were up and about. Their conversations seemed to quiet as she walked past. No doubt they were gossiping about her Harrowing. Fylion ducked into a nearby room. Another apprentice was sitting at the armoire at the far end of the room.

"Excuse me. This is my room." The girl started. Fylion didn't even acknowledge that the girl had spoken and checked her own appearance in the mirror. Her hair was wild and fell about her face as usual. She brushed away some of the sleep in her eyes, eliciting a groan of disgust from the other apprentice. Beyond that, Fylion looked just as she usually did. Her robes were always wrinkled and torn and she never wore make-up.

She exited the room and continued on her way up the tower. She could smell the early morning breeze waft in from the tall windows as she passed them by. Thoughts of the outside crept into her mind. Thoughts of freedom. But what was freedom? A life in the city, enslaving herself to some job that couldn't provide her a decent wage? No. The Circle offered something more. It offered power, knowledge, and prestige; this was her home, and she was here to stay.

The second floor hallways were ever so slightly smaller than the ones on the first floor. The tower became thinner as it spiraled upwards and so did the relative size of the floors.

Irving' office was near the end of the hallway.

"Oh, um, h-hello. I...uh, just wanted to say congratulations...o-on your Harrowing."

Startled by the sudden noise Fylion turned. A young man stood there, a Templar who had attended her Harrowing, if Fylion wasn't mistaken. She had seen him around the tower now and again. Always making eyes at her, but this was the first time they had ever really spoken.

"Why thank you." Fylion said with a sly smile. It was always to a mage's advantage to have a Templar on their side.

"They chose me as the one to strike the killing blow if...if you became an abomination." Fylion cocked her eyebrow,"It's nothing personal I swear!" The templar added hastily, "I'm just glad you're alright, you know?"

"I never fail." Fylion cast a smug smile at the Templar. Fylion wondered, what was his name?The young elf clasped her hands behind her back and cast her large, amber eyes up at the young man."You wouldn't really have struck me down, would you?"

The Templar turned a scarlet red.

"I would've felt terrible about it. But I serve the Chantry and the Maker and I will do as I am commanded."

"Well I shan't keep you from your duties." Fylion said, applying a tone of remorse to her voice,"Perhaps we might talk again soon?"

"Y-Yes! I would like that very much."

And with that, Fylion left on her way to Irving's office. Performing a slight sashay for her no doubt still watching admirer.

Irving's office drew nearer and Fylion could hear a raised voice emanating from within. She padded softly to the side of the doorway, her bare feet making no sound as she sidled against the door frame, her elven ears picking up the conversation as if she were standing right with the speakers.

"...many have already gone to Ostagar: Wynne, Uldred, and most of the senior mages. We have committed enough of our own to this war effort."

The voice was that of Greagoir. Fylion was certain of that. The old Knight Commander was another Templar Fylion was in the good graces of. She worked and trained hard, she was trustworthy to her superiors, and,on occasions, kept tabs on her fellow apprentices. A Templar's ideal mage.

"Your own?", came First Enchanter Irving's voice, it was unmistakable,"And since when have you felt such kinship with the mages, Greagoir? Or are you afraid to let the mages out from Chantry supervision, where they can actually use their Maker given powers?"

Ah, so this was about the war brewing to the south then. Not a particularly useful piece of information.

Sighing, the elf paced back a few steps and then strode boldly into the office.

The conversation ceased at the appearance of the newcomer.

"Ah if it isn't our newest sister of the Circle. Welcome." Irving's grandfatherly face crinkled into a smile.

Fylion returned the smile and looked over to Greagoir, who gave her slight smile and a nod.

Then, Fylion noticed someone she did not expect. Standing slightly behind the other two was another man. He was tall, dark skinned, and his hair and beard were jet black. His eyes were intent but his face was placid. He wore armor, but not that of a Templar. He was not a resident of the tower.

"Well Irving I can see that you're busy. We will speak of this later."

"Of course." Irving replied as Greagoir left the room. "Now, where was I? Oh yes...Fylion, I would like you to meet Duncan, of the Grey Wardens."

'Grey Wardens? What would a Grey Warden be doing in the Circle?' Fylion mused as she made a small bow.

"You've heard of the war brewing to the south I imagine? Duncan is recruiting mages to join the kings army at Ostagar."

"Is this why you had me summoned?" Fylion said going slightly pale. Fighting in a war was not in her agenda.

"There is something else, but I merely wanted you to meet Duncan first. The Harrowing is behind you, your phylactery was sent to Denerim. You are now officially a mage within the Circle of Magi."

"Excuse me," Duncan interjected. Fylion was surprised by how deep his voice was,"but what is this phylactery? I am unfamiliar with the term."

"Blood is taken from the new apprentices when they arrive at the Circle and is stored in special vials."

"Ah I see. So they can be tracked if they turn apostate."

"Precisely. Now, Fylion, here are your new robes, staff, and signet ring. Wear them proudly."

The young elf handled the robes delicately. They had been designed to fit her. Not just her body, but also her taste. One of the many perks of instilling yourself in the good graces of your superiors.

The robes were of a dark black cotton, with grey embroidery. They were light but still felt warm to the touch. Enchanted of course. The arms were long to cover her hands. Fylion enjoyed that others wouldn't be able to tell what her hands were doing.

The staff the young elf didn't care about. She had never had need of one so this one would join her apprentice staff, gathering dust at the end of her bed. She slipped on her ring. It was steel and engraved with the insignia of the Circle.

" Fylion would you be so kind as to escort Duncan back to his quarters?"

"Of course, First Enchanter." Fylion stated with a bit of a supposed Grey Warden Commander would need an escort to his chambers was beyond her.

The walk to Duncan's room was silent and uncomfortable.

"Thank you." the Warden said tersely as they came to the room. Fylion was glad to be rid of her charge.

The new mage stopped by her new quarters and changed into her new robes. Wandering out into the hallway again, Fylion thought.

What to do now? Irving had given her the whole day to relax. A day in the library was probably her future. There were plenty of books Fylion wanted to get started on.

"Oh there you are! Ive been looking all over for you!"

Fylion sighed. One day off and it had to be ruined by him.

"Im not interested, Jowan. Go pester someone else." Fylion turned from the man but Jowan grabbed her arm.

"Please! You have to help me!"

"Let...go...of...me." Fylion growled through bared teeth, enunciating each word clearly.

The hapless apprentice immediately released his grip.

"Please. If you help me just this once I'll be out of your life forever!" He sounded desperate. Not the first time he did, but there was a tone of urgency to it this time.

"Truly? Now that's something I'd be interested in." A wild grin appeared on the elf's face,"What do you need help with? Somebody steal your blanky? Did you burn your widdle fingers?"

"Ha-ha very funny."

"Then tell me what vexes you so."

"No, we cant talk about this here. We need to find somewhere more private."

Fylion raised an eyebrow at this but remained silent as she followed Jowan.

She didn't know what he wanted, but whatever it was, it was certainly suspicious. She wanted to know what was going on and she would find out. Wasn't that her duty now? She was a member of the Circle after all. She was a mage.

* * *

**Authors Note:** Im definitely going to try to get the 2nd chapter up sooner than I did this one. Feel free to review and tell me what you think : )


	3. Conscripted

**Chapter 2: Conscripted**

"Remember I told you I met a girl once?" Jowan said shakily as they entered the chapel. He seemed more nervous than before.

"Yes yes, Jowan. Im sure you pissed yourself when it happened."

Jowan remained silent through the elf's insult. The pair came to a secluded area in the back where a priestess was waiting.

"This is Lily." Jowan beamed, his depressed mood seeming to alleviate for a brief second.

The girl was plump, her cheeks were round and her hair was cut into a most atrocious style. She wore the common raiment of a priestess, a long cream colored robe with crimson shoulders, and the insignia of the Chantry emblazoned on the front.

"Ah...well...Jowan you're not all pleasant to look at, but I would've thought you could do better than a human hamster."

Jowan went pale and Lily took a sharp intake of air.

"She standing right here!"

"Is this truly someone we can trust, Jowan?" she said with contempt oozing from every word.

Fylion looked around. She always hated the chapel. The large statues of Andraste always watching, the smell of incense overpowering and suffocating.

Jowan let out a sigh,"She's the most abrasive, cynical person I've ever met, but there's no one in the Circle I could trust more than her. I'd trust her with my life"

Fylion suppressed a chuckle. Jowan was so clueless. If he knew about all the times she had observed and reported suspicious apprentices he wouldnt trust her as far as he could throw her.

"I trust your judgement then." Lily conceded.

"Well Jowan?" Fylion said agitated,"If you came here to tell me about your little fling with a priestess I'm leaving."

"I'm not a priestess I'm an initiate."

"As if I care."

"No it's something much more serious!" Jowan added hastily as Fylion turned to leave. The elf looked over at Jowan without moving. Her amber eyes peering hard and intense through her wild hair.

"Theyre...going to make me Tranquil."

"Oh? And why would they do that?"

"There are rumors, that Ive been dabbling with...blood magic."

Fylion was annoyed. Why had she not heard these rumors?

"Well...are these rumors true?"

"Of course not! But do you think the Templars care?! No, they'll take everything from me! My hopes, dreams, my love for Lily. All gone!"

Lily placed her hands on Jowans shoulders to calm him down. His voice had made a small echo in the empty room."Hush,love. You need to keep calm. No good can come from losing yourself in anger."

"Y- You're right." Jowan said, shaking slightly. He turned again to Fylion.

"I need your help to destroy my phylactery and escape the tower. Without my phylactery the Templars can't track me and me and Lily can live in peace."

"So you're asking me to go against all the rules of the Circle to help you escape?" Fylion sighed ,"Well it will be worth it not to listen to your whining ever again. What is your plan? Do you even have one?"

Jowan smiled like an oaf. "You see Lily?! I told you she would help us!"

"Yes we do have a plan." Lily interjected."We need to get into the phylactery chamber through the basement. We'll need a rod of fire first."

"For what purpose?"

"We will need it to melt the locks off the door to the phylactery chamber. Now, we'll stay here. One mage will attract much less attention than two mages and an initiate."

"True, and you would only slow me down."

With that Fylion took her leave of the couple. She stepped out of the chapel and into the hallway.

Glancing behind her, Fylion checked to see if Jowan or Lily had followed her. She was alone. Fylion turned left and headed for Irving's office.

* * *

"So you are saying that Jowan is attempting to escape the tower?"

"Yes, First Enchanter."

Irving shook his head, his grey beard swaying from side to side at the motion. Fylion couldn't quite tell what he was feeling. Regret? Disappointment perhaps?

"Well then, something must be done about this. You tell me they asked for your help in this endeavor?"

"Yes. Jowan believes he can trust me."

"Then let us use this to our advantage. It would be simple enough to merely accuse Jowan, but if we wish to implicate Lily as well, we will need to catch the pair of them in the act." Irving thought for a moment,"I want you to help them."

"But what if we just told Greagoir that Lily was involved?"

Irving waved his hand in dismissal of the idea,"The Chantry would just say that she was framed. No, they must be caught in the act if they are both to be the Circle is forced to punish one of its own, I will force the Chantry to do the same."

"Of course First Enchanter." Fylion said hiding a smile. This is why Irving was her favorite mage. She aspired to be him,"I will need some help first though. I need to obtain a rod of fire. They aren't issued out to mages without permission from a senior enchanter."

"Hmm, you should know then, Fylion, that a rod of fire won't work on the door to the phylactery chamber. It is protected by wards that nullify all magic in the immediate area."

"How can we get inside then?"

"There is another way in. Past a door, that is not warded, lies an old room next to the phylactery chamber where many old artifacts are stored, including a statue that could amplify the rod of fire's power to knock down entire walls."

Fylion knew instantly what the First Enchanter was getting at.

"I will write you a note of permission for the rod," said Irving as he drew out a parchment and quill and wrote something out,"Give this to Owain at the stockroom, I'm sure that with written permission from me he won't refuse your request."

After thanking the First Enchanter, Fylion made her way to the stockrooms where a bald human man was standing.

"Please refrain from entering the stockroom." He said monotonously. He was a Tranquil. The thing Jowan feared becoming.

"Are you Owain?" Fylion asked. The man nodded and Fylion gave him Irving's note of approval."I have a request for a rod of fire."

Owain looked over the note several times before storing it in a ledger he kept beside the entrance to the stockrooms. "One moment please."

Several minutes later Owain came back carrying a small, silver rod. "Do use this with utmost caution." came his monotone voice again. Fylion wondered if he truly did feel nothing. No hopes, no emotions, no dreams.

Accepting the rod of fire, Fylion made her way back to the chapel. The large stone room was filled with initiates and priests studying the Chant. Suffice to say, Jowan and Lily weren't there. Fylion made her way next to the first floor of the tower where the entrance to the basement was.

Midday was beginning. The sun shined more heavily through the windows and the stone floor was beginning to feel a mite warmer.

Down on the first floor, Fylion could see Jowan and Lily waiting for her beside the stairwell that led to the basement.

"I have it!' Fylion stated as she walked up and held the rod aloft. There was no one around to see them.

"Thats fantastic!" came the joyful answer from the waiting couple. Fylion descended the stairs and bid the two to follow her.

The corridor was narrow and was lit solely by torches. It smelled of must and mildew, and with the amount of dust on the walls and floor, Fylion assumed it was rarely used. Going down the long hallway they came to an old door made of stone.

"Hurry! Use the rod on the lock!" Moving the rod to the locks, Fylion knew it wouldnt work but she had to do it for appearences at least. As expected, the wards prevented the rod from working and it did nothing.

"Why isnt it working!" Jowan seemed frantic.

"Damn!" Fylion spat,"There are wards carved into the doorframes."

"So your magic won't work?" Came Lily's voice,"It's hopeless then!"

"We cant give up now! There has to be another way." Jowan stated. One of the smarter things he's ever said.

"What about that door over there? That must lead somewhere."

"Do you think the rod would work on that door?"

"One way to find out."

No wards on this door, Fylion noted, just as Irving said. The rod would work. Placing the silver tip to the lock, Fylion focused her mana into the rod and the lock sizzled and burst in a flurry of sparks. The door swung open to a dark room where no torches burned. With a conjured flame in her hand, the small group made their way into the darkness.

Cobwebs hung everywhere and clung to the group as they passed through them. The dust flew about at the new disturbance. This place hadnt seen activity for a long time.

After a few long winding corridors they came upon a large chamber filled with old artifacts. Judging by the direction, the wall Irving mentioned had to be behind a large bookcase situated to the left.

"I dont see anymore doorways. Its a dead-end." Jowan said hoplessly.

Fylion walked over to the bookcase and ran her finger along the wall. Old mortar and dust stained her hand.

"What about this? The wall seems to be crumbling in on itself."

"Do you think the phylactery chamber is behind it?"

"Maybe. But how would we brea—" the elf let her eyes conveniently wander over the Tevinter artifact that amplified magic,"We could use that!" She beamed with artificial happiness."I read about these kind of tools. The magisters of Tevinter used them to amplify their spells."

Fylion rushed over to the statue. It was grey stone and in the shape of a hound. Regretting her terrible acting, Fylion couldn't help but feel that the others might be catching on.

"Then if you pointed this thing at the wall and used the rod…" Jowan pieced together,"then we could get through the wall!"

"Exactly!" Fylion felt stupid for believing she'd be caught. Jowan and Lily were thicker than stone.

Fylion and Jowan moved the bookcase as Lily maneuvered the dog statue into position.

"Hurry quick! Use the rod!"

Without hesitation, Fylion touched the rod of fire to the statue and released her mana. The flame grew in the statue's mouth and then shot forth like an inferno.

When the dust cleared, the wall was no more. Fylion felt the cold air kiss her skin as it escaped the new door. This was definitely the phylactery chamber.

Stepping inside the stone felt like ice beneath Fylion's feet. It took everything Fylion had to not grimace as the cold bit her feet. Her breath hung in the air as steam and she even thought she saw it begin to form into crystals.

Fylion waited at the bottom of a small flight of stairs as Jowan and Lily rushed ahead.

"My phylactery!" She heard Jowan say. She heard something else and then she heard what she listening for. The tiny twinkling sound of glass breaking upon stone. It was over. Fylion followed behind Jowan and Lily as they made their way back upstairs. Fylion smirked. Jowan's joy wouldn't last long.

* * *

"It appears you were right, Irving." Greagoir said as he approached with three other Templars and the First Enchanter.

"Wh-what?" Jowan stuttered as he came to a stop. Lily went white as a sheet and Fylion let her suppressed smile grow into a grin.

"Breaking the rules of the Circle, eh Jowan?" Fylion said letting out a small chuckle at the dawning realization on Jowan's face,"There are consequences for that."

"You sold us out! You betrayed me!"

"Enough!" came Greagoir's voice,"Hmm, Lily seems shocked but fully in control of her actions. Not a thrall of the blood mage then." Greagoir motioned for his knights to advance,"I hereby sentence this maleficar to death and this initiate has scorned the Chantry and her vows…take her to Aeonar."

"No, not the mage's prison!" Lily was choking down sobs,"Please no!"

"No! I won't let you touch her!" Jowan shouted. Fylion was unnerved a bit. She had never heard Jowan like this before. He pulled out a knife.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment as he raised it high, the sunlight from the windows glinted off of it for just a moment before he sent it crashing down into his palm. Blood shot forth from the wound and dripped onto the cold, hard floor.

The Templars stopped moving. Jowan raised both of his hands. Red tendrils of pure energy shot forth and struck the assembled group. They took down even the First Enchanter and the Knight Commander. Jowan was seething. His rage apparent in his face. He was like a rabid dog.

"You—you used blood magic." squeaked Lily as she stared numbly from the corner of the room.

Fylion backed away. Not wanting to draw Jowans attention.

Jowan turned to face Lily,"I admit I dabbled. I thought it would make me a better mage. But I'll get rid of it all! All magic! Just to be with you, Lily!'

Lily's face hardened,"I don't know who you are blood mage. Be gone from my sight!"

The Templars began to stir. Jowan looked at them and then back at Lily who had turned her face from him. Without anymore hesitation, he fled.

Fylion merely stood shaking against the wall. Terrified and excited at the raw power she had just witnessed.

* * *

"Are you okay, First Enchanter?" Fylion asked as the old man sat up.

"Im fine."

Greagoir walked up to Irving and Fylion. "To think a blood mage was under my nose this entire time…" He sighed and then glanced at Fylion, "Irving told me of your dedication to rooting out this evil. I commend you. If only more mages were like you." Fylion beamed at this.

"Gentlemen, a word if you please." Came the voice of Duncan as he strode into the room."As you know, the Darkspawn are threatening from the south, and I am not only looking for mages to join the kings army, I am also looking for recruits."

"What are you getting at Duncan?" came the wary reply of the Knight Commander. Duncan came to a stop.

"I wish to recruit this mage," he pointed at Fylion,"into the Grey Wardens."

"What?!" shouted Fylion,"No! I will NOT join the order."

Duncan's eyes narrowed, He cast glances at both Irving and Greagoir.

"Fylion belongs in the Circle." Greagoir said with as much of a commanding air as he could muster, "I will not permit you to take her."

Irving merely bowed his head.

"Im afraid then I must use the Right of Conscription." Duncan said and Fylion went pale,"Ferelden needs you. Thedas needs you. And whether you embrace it or not, you will join the Wardens."

"You're time here at the Circle is over, Fylion" came Irving's raspy voice,"Not even I can defy the Warden's Right of Conscription." Fylion's jaw dropped. Her world was crashing in around her.

"Come. Your new life awaits." Duncan gestured for Fylion to follow him. Greagoir and Irving were silent.

Fylion hesitated. She looked first to Irving, who avoided her gaze and then to Greagoir, who went to open his mouth and then stopped. Numbly, Fylion turned and followed behind the Warden. Her life at the Circle was over. Her whole life was over.


	4. The Ruins of Ostagar

**Chapter 3: The Ruins of Ostagar**

"Not speaking will only make your time here worse." Duncan said plainly. Fylion hadn't spoken a word since she and Duncan had left the tower, "Whether we like each other or not, your life is with the Grey Wardens now, a life that is inescapable."

With a sigh, Fylion continued to walk alongside Duncan. The grizzled Warden was a fool though if he thought the elf was merely sulking.

Fylion's mind was calculating. Thinking of the possible outcomes of her life in the Grey Wardens, devising escape plans to get back to the Circle, just what exactly did a Darkspawn look like. She hadn't stopped thinking. Not for a minute.

The road south had been long and Duncan provided little time for rest. What little provisions Duncan had allowed Fylion to keep was kept in a small satchel she wore on her back. Her grimoire, a few rations of food, a black,woolen cloak, and a quaint little flower she had plucked during the trip.

As the pair traveled along the road, a huge tower loomed in the distance.

"Is that…?"

"Yes that is Ostagar." Duncan answered, "The Tower of Ishal to be precise."

Fylion wanted the long silence to resume but Duncan began talking.

"When we arrive, I imagine the other recruits will be busy. I need you and Alistair to round them up and bring them to me at my camp on the western edge of the ruins."

"Alistair?"

"Ah I am sorry. Alistair is a new member of the Wardens. If he doesn't meet us at the gates, I want you to find him as well. He is blonde, with short hair and he bears a Templars shield and chain-mail armor."

Duncan cast a look over at Fylion."Best not to be too..._magical_ around him. He becomes perturbed easily at such things."

Fylion giggled. Duncan would've been better off not mentioning that.

* * *

The bridge was long and Fylion liked the feel of stone under her feet again. She had been forced to wear boots for the long trip down to Ostagar, but she decided to take them off here. The rising sun cast an orange hue over the impending ruins as Fylion approached

"Hail, you must be the new Grey Warden recruit that Duncan brought!" a soldier on guard beamed, "I wager this place hasn't seen such bustle in centuries. Can I give you any directions?"

"Uhmm...yes in fact. I need to find three other Grey Wardens. Two recruits and one named Alistair."

"Well I don't know about the other recruits but I heard that Alistair fellow got sent with a message to the mages on the north side of the ruins."

Fylion walked away without uttering anything.

"Uh...bye!" the soldier called out.

What the soldier said was true. Ostagar was humming with activity as soldiers and servants went about their business.

Fylion saw a smithy. A nice, concealable dagger would only be a benefit she thought as she approached.

"Well you aren't what I thought you'd be." came a strange voice to her left. There stood a man in leather armor. He was tan with dark brown hair and unshaved stubble. His face reminded her of a ferret.

"And what did you think I'd be?" Fylion said. Her voice as calm and dangerous as a blade.

"Not an elf, yet here you are." He gave a charming smile,"I'm one of the other recruits that Duncan brought. Names Daveth."

"Fylion"

"I'm beginning to think that they cooked this ritual up for our benefit. Keep us on our toes ya' know?"

Fylion chuckled, "Perhaps they did."

"Just to give us a good scare? No, they don't seem the type. Anyways I was doing a bit of sneaking around camp the other night and I happened to overhear a little conversation. I'm thinking they plan to send us into the Wilds." Fylion scoffed. Daveth continued, "There's all sorts of dangers in the Wilds: witches, barbarians, beasts, and now Darkspawn. Gives me the shivers."

"Well I'll watch your back if you watch mine."

"Oh I'll watch your back." he said with a chuckle and a roguish grin.

"Well just don't get _too_ distracted back there."

"Heh heh, I'll try my hardest. Now I'll go collect Jory and head back to Duncan."

The man left but Fylion called after him, "Wait! What was your name again?"

He gave a one sided smile as he turned, "Daveth."

* * *

"I'm looking to bu—"

"Where's my armor?" the gruff quartermaster spat at Fylion as she approached.

"Wha—"

"I swear if I you don't have my armor I'll bring out the switch, knife ears!"

Fylion had never been subjected to this before. Was this what it was like for elves outside of the Circle? Whatever it was, she wasn't going to take it.

The man bent over in pain as Fylion strode forward, "I would be much more careful in my choice of words if I were you." Her hand raised toward him.

"You bitch! What are you doing to m—" he gasped out in agony as fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face.

"Wrong. Your next words will be 'Would you like to see my wares?' if you value your internal organs." her face was contorted into a wicked smile._  
_

"Would...you like to see...my wares?" he said through choked sobs.

"Much better." Fylion lowered her hand and the man collapsed fully to the ground, "Now I'd like to see some daggers. Knives preferably."

The man merely nodded as he struggled to his feet and led the elf over to his stock.

The armorer had a long, curved knife for sale that Fylion thought was rather charming blade was made of silverite, and the handle was smooth, polished ivory. The quartermaster even gave it to her for a bargain. All Fylion had to do was raise her hand.

There were shouts coming from a platform further up the ruins. A few servants nearby were beginning to look anxious as they watched the spectacle. As the young elf drew closer she could distinguish the voice.

"What the Revered Mother wishes is of no concern to me. I am already helping enough as it is! By the king's orders, might I add!"

That voice was all too familiar. Olivar was a senior enchanter who had been sent to aid the king's army. It was no surprise to Fylion to see him here.

A young man with short blonde hair and chain-mail armor stood with a smirk on his face, "Should I have asked her to write a note?"

"I will not be harassed in this manner!"

"Yes I was harassing you by delivering a message."

"You're glibness does you no credit"

"And here I thought we were getting along so well! I was even going to name one of my children after you….the grumpy one."

"Fine I will speak to the woman if I must. Get out of my way, fool!" Olivar stormed off.

Fylion was left standing out in the open speechless. She had never seen Olivar lose his temper like that before. She had always known him as kind with an easy going temperament. Whatever kind of person this Alistair was, if he could do that to Olivar, he must be talented at getting under people's skins.

"Well one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together."

Fylion merely raised an eyebrow and gave a small frown as she assessed her new comrade. He was tall and muscular, he had a light tan and dusty blonde hair.

"I was sent by Duncan to collect you. You're Alistair correct?"

"The one and only," he said with a smirk, "that means you must be Fylion, the recruit from the Circle of Magi, Duncan sent word of you."

"Nothing but good things I imagine?" Fylion said with a touch of bitterness.

"Well at any rate if Duncan sent you to get me then that means the preparation is set to begin. We should get started immediately, so if you have any questions let me know, otherwise, lead on."

Fylion wanted to ask why he was letting her lead but she truly didn't feel like listening to him anymore. Something about him just put her into a bad mood.

* * *

The walk back across Ostagar was just the same as before, busy and loud with servants and soldiers passing to and fro.

"This isn't good. Not good at all." she overheard a man say next to a series of pens.

"Is there a problem?" Alistair asked.

"This poor hound here swallowed some Darkspawn blood in the last battle. If he goes untreated, he's going to die." The man seemed to think of something.

"Come on Alistair, we have to get back to Duncan." Fylion said as she gripped Alistair's arm.

"Wait!" the man shouted after them. Alistair ripped his arm out of Fylion's hand.

"What do you need?" the young Warden said to the kennel-master.

"Perhaps if you put a muzzle on the dog, I could get him treated properly."

"Muzzle him yourself! You're a dog-handler." the impatient elf spat as she grabbed Alistair again.

"Im sorry," Alistair said , "I've never been good at dealing with dogs anyway."

"I could pay you! Please! I'd hate to lose such a promising member of the breed. Maybe...if you cant do it, what about you?" he said looking at Fylion.

"I'll do it for five silver." she said with a snort.

"Fine, just so long as it gets done."

Fylion followed the man reluctantly into the pen where the dog was housed.

His fur was tan all over, save for his snout which was jet black. He was sizable as well. Much bigger than the average Mabari that Fylion had read about. His sickness was apparent though. Fylion couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something was off about the dog, like a strange eminence was exuding from him. It made her a bit sick.

"Alright here's the muzzle. Now go up to him and let him smell you. We'll know right away if he'll respond to you."

The dog stood up as Fylion approached, he had his head held low yet he was tall enough to stand just a bit above the girl's waist. He gave a low growl as she came to a stop.

She bent her knees and came face to face with him. His growl came a bit more menacing this time, and the fur raised on his nape.

Fylion looked him square in the eyes. His deep brown eyes directly connected to her amber eyes.

"Sit" she commanded. Her voice low and stern.

The dog continued to growl.

"Dont. Growl. At. Me." She enunciated each word clearly and with a growl of her own. The dog sat, his head held low as Fylion slipped the muzzle on him and left.

"I've...never seen a Mabari just back down like that before. That's amazing!"

"Great. Now wheres my silvers?"

"Here." he handed Fylion the money."Now I can treat the dog properly. Poor fellow. I don't imagine he'll be much better off though. Not unless...do you think you'll be heading out of camp in the next while? There's a particular herb I know of that grows around these parts that could help him immensely. An all white flower with a blood red center."

"I have one here." Fylion pulled the flower from her sack and held it out to the man.

"That's perfec—"

"Ten silvers." Fylion pulled the flower back.

The man groaned as he pushed the money into Fylion's waiting hand, "Fine take it."

"A pleasure." Fylion chirped as she left and dragged Alistair along with her.

* * *

"Good you've found Alistair. Now we can begin preparations." Duncan looked at Alistair askance , "Assuming you're quite finished riling up the mages."

"What can I say, the Revered Mother ambushed me. The way she wields guilt they should stick her in the army." the young Warden joked. Duncan wasn't pleased however.

"There is already enough opposition against us as it is. We don't need anymore ammunition against us."

Alistair sighed, "You're right, Duncan. I'm sorry."

Fylion took a moment to glance over the other recruits. Daveth, whom she already met, was there alongside a man with a balding head and a two-handed sword. This, she assumed, was the Jory that Daveth had mentioned.

"Now then that you are all here, the preparation can begin. You four will be heading into the Korcari Wilds with two objectives. Firstly, you will collect three vials of Darkspawn blood. Secondly, there is an old ruin deep in the forest, I need you to procure ancient documents that are stored there. Are there any questions?"

The small group remained silent.

"Good. Watch over your charges Alistair and may the Maker watch over you."

Fylion stood silently. Collecting Darkspawn blood, she would have to fight those creatures. Her heart beat faster. She had heard the tales and read books on those monsters. This was her life now?

* * *

**Authors Note: **I'm very sorry for the long delay. Fingers crossed I can get chapter.4 up sooner than this. Feel free to leave a review; I'm always glad to hear feedback ^.^


	5. The Korcari Wilds

**Chapter 4: The Korcari Wilds**

"Duncan wasn't very clear in his instructions was he?" Fylion stated as the group wound its way past the army tents.

"If you needed more instruction why didn't you just ask?" Alistair retorted. Fylion blushed a little in embarrassment and looked away, "Anyway Duncan filled me in on the task beforehand. The darkspawn blood is simple. Just need to slay at least one darkspawn and drain the blood into a few flasks." He tugged on the straps of a sack he wore on his back, "The documents however might be a bit trickier. We know the location of the ruin we need to go to..."

"But...?" Daveth let the question hang in the air.

"...but the operative word here is 'ruin'. The documents we need might not still be there." Alistair sighed.

"So what if we don't find these documents?" Fylion let her bitterness seep into her tone,"We don't become Wardens then?" She said with a sneer.

Alistair gave Fylion a sideways look, his mouth set into a frown, "It is an honor to join the Wardens. Remember that." The elf snorted and Alistair continued,"The documents are important but not necessary for your Joining. I was told that finding them would be a great boon for the Wardens. If not...well then that's that."

The group continued on in silence. The busy hum of the encampment filled the air, accompanied by the smell of metal, leather, and dogs. The morning sun shone brightly all around. Fylion took notice of her feet. The warm stone felt good underfoot, but she was about to enter the Korcari Wilds which didn't seem like an all too good idea to do in bare feet.

The group found itself at a small wooden gate sided by two soldiers. The soldier to the right flagged them down as they approached.

"Hail! I heard you've all got business in the Wilds. Just be careful. Even Grey Wardens won't be safe in the forest tonight."

The guards began to open the the soldiers opened the gate, Fylion took the time to slip on a pair of boots that had been made to compliment her robes. Thin, black leather that laced all the way to her knees. With how thin they were, they shouldn't have been very good at keeping out the Ferelden cold, but they were enchanted like her robes to keep their wearer's feet at a comfortable temperature.

The gate creaked open and the group stood motionless for a second. 'This is it' Fylion thought as she took a deep breath and took her first step into the Wilds.

* * *

"Y'know I've always loved elven girls," Fylion was taken aback by the suddenness of the statement, but managed to regain her composure.

"We are in the middle of a forest that is supposedly crawling with darkspawn and other creatures, Daveth. Perhaps now is not the best time, yes?"

"We'll I don't see why I shouldn't tell a pretty girl she's pretty. Besides there's nothing about anywa—"

The four halted as they came upon the scene. Dead bodies of soldiers lying everywhere. Their bodies twisted and mutilated. Hunks of flesh and blood strewn across the grass. One corpse, however, was not quite dead yet as it began to crawl towards the stunned onlookers.

"Who...is that? Grey...Wardens?" His voice was labored and it seemed that every word he spoke could be his last.

"Try not to move, friend. We can help you." Alistair held his hands up to the man who quit crawling forward.

"My scouting party was attacked by darkspawn. Please help me! I've got to—" the soldier grunted in pain,"return to camp!"

Fylion glared up at the sun. The trek out here had taken too long. It was midday already.

"We don't have time for this. We are NOT taking him all the way back to Ostagar."

"If...you could just...bandage me up, I could make my own way back."

"Perhaps you have a spell that could help him, Fylion? Something to ease him a bit of his pain?" Alistair implored.

"No. I will not be stuck out in this forest when night falls. We don't have time for this."

Alistair set his face into a stern look, which made him seem more comical than commanding,"I'm the senior Warden here. Bandages won't do very well on those wounds without some sort of healing first. Now help him!"

Taking orders was something Fylion was used to. She thrived on it back in the Circle. But here? She didn't give a damn. And the fact that this new Warden thought he could order her about galled her more than the actual command.

"Sure Alistair, I'll relieve him of his pain." She cast a big, toothy smile reminiscent of a snarling dog at Alistair as she crouched down.

Pulling out her dagger, she jerked the soldiers head up and ran the blade effortlessly across his throat.

"Maker's Breath!" Jory backed up, his hand covering his mouth.

"Are you insane?!" Alistair shouted as Fylion stood back up to face him. His voice a mix of anger and shock.

"You told me to 'ease his pain a bit'. I daresay he's not in much pain now." She gave the soldiers already limp body a small tap with her boot,"If this isn't what you had in mind, perhaps you should be a bit more careful when you order me about."

"Point...taken." Alistair quickly tried to change the subject as he averted his eyes from the soldier at Fylion's feet,"I don't see any darkspawn corpses among these men..."

Jory piped up, "Exactly what I was thinking. An entire patrol getting taken down like this...I am no coward, but this is foolish and reckless. We should go back." Jory was visibly shaking.

Fylion snorted and suppressed a laugh. She was by no means happy about being out here, but the thought of a knight clad in armor and wielding a sword the length of her body whining like a frightened child was too amusing.

"Heh heh, you sound like a coward to me." Daveth chimed in.

"I am simply trying to stay alive. You do not see me fleeing do you?" Jory tried to save some face in front of his companions.

"Calm down, Ser Jory. We'll be fine so long as we're careful." Alistair tried to defuse Jory's anxiety.

Jory's face turned from frightened to rage,"These soldiers were careful and look where it got them! Even if we could defeat these monsters how many of them could we kill?A hundred? A thousand? There's an entire army in this forest!"

"There are darkspawn about, but we are in no danger of walking into the horde," Alistair tried consoling Jory,"Every Grey Warden can sense the darkspawn. That's why I'm here. They won't be able to sneak up on us I promise you."

"You see ser knight, we might die, but we'll be warned about it first." Daveth gave Jory a fake smile.

"That is...reassuring." Jory was equally fake in reply.

"That doesn't mean I'm here to make this easy, however. It's best we get a move on now. Like Fylion said, we don't really have time for this."

* * *

Alistair stopped suddenly as they approached a ruined archway. He held his hand up signaling the group to stop as well. They came without further warning. Three beings burst from the tall grass alongside the trail, two from the left and one from the right. They had the same build as humans, but their skin was far too pale, their eyes blank and lifeless, and they screamed like no normal creature could. Another creature built like a gorilla leaped from the top of the archway and gave a loud shriek.

"Ready yourselves!" Alistair shouted as he lifted his shield. Jory had his sword already drawn.

Daveth pulled two daggers from his belt and gave them an artful twirl,"Finally some action!" He rushed to the left flank as Alistair and Jory charged forward to meet the gorilla-like darkspawn. Fylion spun to her right.

It was monstrous. It lunged at Fylion. The fire leapt from her palms instinctually, her eyes widened in terror. The beast continued to charge through the flames, its skin blackening as it burned. It shrilled and shrieked. Fylion stepped to her right and the beast ran past her, writhing in the agonies of death as the fires consumed him.

Her knees felt weak and her head felt light. The smell of burnt flesh made her want to vomit.

The sound of battle brought her back to her senses.

Dashing forward, she cast a stone fist that shattered the skull of the darkspawn to Daveth's left. She leapt on the others back and gripped its head,"Now!"

Daveth wasted no time and cut the darkspawn across the middle of its torso. The creature flailed about wildly trying to shake Fylion off. She managed to pull out her knife and stab the beast several times in the neck. Being near it she felt the same sickness that the dog back at the camp had. The blood spurting from the gushing wound in its neck spattered across Fylion's hands and face.

The beast finally gave in and sunk to the ground in death. Fylion and Daveth turned to see Jory cut off the other creatures head. Without hesitation, Jory began madly hacking at the limp carcass, his eyes like that of a mad man, lost in the horror of battle.

"Jory stop!" Alistair shouted to little avail,"Jory it's dead!"

It was obvious that they wouldn't be able to do anything for the knight at that point so the other three took stock of the situation.

"So...these are darkspawn?" Fylion asked. She tried to keep the trembling out of her voice, but it happened despite.

"Yes." Alistair was matter-of-fact, but he didn't sound as calm as he did before,"The three that popped out from the brush were hurlocks. That pulpy mess over there that Jory appears to be done with now _used _to be a genlock. Doesn't really matter though. They're all darkspawn aren't they? Now we can't use the genlock to drain blood from," He cast a disapproving glare at Jory who wore a blank stare as took his place among the group,"We'll have to use these two over here. They should be enough."

Daveth and Fylion took the flasks from Alistair who went to stand guard. After the task was completed, the group carried on.

* * *

After an hour of walking a structure of stone began to rise over the treetops.

"That's our ruin!" Alistair said seeming proud of himself,"Told you I'd find it."

The group entered into the building on a small causeway. The roof of the tower, if it could even be called a tower anymore, had fallen in long ago. Vegetation grew in among the stone and the rubble. This place hadn't seen use in centuries.

Fylion looked around. The ruin was just that. She ran her finger along the mortar holding two slabs and it turned to dust at her touch,"Do you honestly think that ANYTHING could still be here, let alone documents? I'm surprised that there's as much left of this place as it is."

"Just look around. The treaties were supposedly left in a chest enchanted only to let Grey Wardens open it."

"Treaties? We're out here for treaties?" Daveth seemed a bit miffed at this,"I thought we'd be collectin' some sort of...I don't know 'Grand Plan to kill all the darkspawn' documents or something."

"Just look for the damn chest will you?"

Daveth turned to Fylion and let his eyes wander south of her eyes,"Oh I found a chest alright!" He sniggered and Fylion couldn't help but give a small smile.

"Well well what have we here?"

The group spun around at the voice. From above the ruin stood a dark haired woman began to skulk down a flight of stairs towards them.

"Are you vultures I wonder. Scavengers poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned." Her voice hung in the air with an accusatory tone. Her eyes pointed and half-lidded,"Or are you merely intruders? Come into these darkspawn filled wilds of mine in search of easy prey." She crossed her arms, "What say you then, hmm? Scavengers or intruders?"

Fylion said nothing. She studied the woman in front of her. She was human, a barbarian no doubt. Most likely one of the Chasind that dwelled in the Korcari Wilds. She was quite beautiful with black clothing that seemed stitched together from bits and pieces of cloth and adorned with black feathers. She carried a staff. She was a mage. She was dangerous.

"I change my mind. NOW I've found a chest!" Daveth chuckled as he gave the woman a lecherous stare. Fylion turned to him with an icy glare, but Daveth failed to notice.

Alistair gripped the handle of his sword tightly,"Our purpose here is none of your concern."

The woman let out a mirthless chuckle, "That's cute. Quite cute indeed." Her smile was deadly. Her glare venomous.

"Be careful," Alistair warned,"She looks Chasind which means others may be nearby."

"You fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?"

"Yes. Swooping...is...bad." Alistair kept a wary eye all around to see if there was anyone else sneaking up on them.

She stalked further toward the group. "You seek something in these ruins, yes? Something that is here no longer?"

"Here no longer? You stole them didn't you? You're some kind of sneaky...witch-thief!" Alistair blurted out. His voice trembled a bit.

"How very eloquent. How does one steal from dead men?"

"Quite easily it seems. The documents we need are the property of the Grey Wardens. I suggest you return them."

"I will not, for tis not I who removed them. Invoke a name that means nothing, if you wish. I am not threatened."

"Well...who stol—" Daveth seemed to think better of his choice of words, "took the blighted things anyway?"

"Twas my mother in fact."

"Can you take us to her then? If shes anything as beautiful as you, I'd be dyin' ta meet her."

The woman burst out laughing "Oh you I like! Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

"MY name's Daveth. A real pleasure to meet you, miss."

"Such a proper greeting, even out here in the Wilds! You may call me Morrigan."

"A real pleasure." Daveth gave a polite bow.

Morrigan addressed the whole group, her smile faded away, her eyes jaded, "Follow me then, if it pleases you, and I will take you to see my mother."

"Shes a Witch of the Wilds. We shouldn't be trusting her!" Jory babbled as the group ignored him. He followed the rest with his hand firmly gripping his sword. Fylion wondered how he even got to be a recruit in the first place.

* * *

"Greetings, Mother. I bring before you four Grey Wardens who—"

"I see them, girl," The old crone spoke before Morrigan could finish. Her gaze shifted over the small group as she sat in an old rocking chair in front of an old wooden hut. Her grey, unkempt hair sprawled across her face, "Humph. Much as I expected."

Fylion remained silent. She could sense something about this woman. Her aura was unnatural. She was not a woman to be trifled with.

"So this is a dreaded Witch of the Wilds?" Alistair joked and Fylion's heart leapt into her throat.

"Hah! Witch of the Wilds. I imagine my Morrigan told you this. She fancies such tales. Oh how she dances under the moon!"

"Actually our dim-witted Ser Scaredy Cat put out that idea." Daveth gleamed with a smile as he jerked a thumb at Jory.

"They did not come to listen to your wild tales, Mother."

"True, they came for their treaties. Here they are. And before you begin barking, your precious seals wore off ages ago. I have protected these."

"You knew what we were after?And you had them with you just like that? Were you...expecting us?" Alistair spoke the thought of the entire group.

The old woman stared straight into Alistair's eyes,"So many questions! I don't feel like answering them. Believe what you will."

Fylion grabbed the scrolls from Alistair and gave a slight bow to the woman,"Many thanks, m'lady. We shall take our leave of you now."

"Such manners! Always in the last place you look. Like stockings."

"Time for you to go then." Morrigan stated.

"Do not be ridiculous, girl! These are our guests!"

Morrigan sighed,"I will show you out of the woods then. Follow me."

Fylion was all too eager to be away from the hut and that old woman. She would've been glad if she never set eyes on this forest again. She wished she had never set eyes on it in the first place.


	6. The Joining

**Chapter 5: The Joining**

It was dark when Alistair, Fylion, Daveth, and Jory arrived back at the army camp. The campfires were but smoldering cinders now, and all save a few servants now wandered about. The chill was beginning to set in as the night took hold and the cold light of the stars shone overhead. The silence that permeated the air was heavy and dreadful.

Duncan stood in the glow of his campfire, the flames illuminated the dark lines of his face. He seemed pensive and on edge.

He stirred as the group approached,"You have returned from the Wilds then. Have you been successful?"

"We have, Duncan." Alistair handed the sack of vials over to Duncan and Fylion did the same with the treaties.

"Good. With this blood I can have the Circle mages begin the preparation for the Joining."

"Lets have it done then! I do so love a good secret." Daveth beamed. Fylion couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or if he was genuinely that enthusiastic. She banked on the former.

"Good, you will need that courage to face the danger that comes next."

"Danger? How much danger are we in?" came the obvious response from Jory.

Duncan sighed,"I will not lie to you. We Wardens pay a heavy price for what we are. Fate my decree that you pay that price now rather than later."

"Well we can't pay any price if we stand around here talking. I want to get this over with." Fylion stated.

Duncan nodded at Fylion and began to walk toward the mages camp, turning to Alistair as he went,"Alistair, lead them to the old temple."

* * *

"The more I hear about this 'Joining' the less I like it!" Jory paced back and forth feverishly. Alistair rested against the far wall of the ruin trying to not pay attention and Fylion sat on a large wooden table with her eyes closed, her hands twitching in aggravation. Daveth was fed up.

"Are you blubbering again?" He sneered at the knight. His arms crossed.

"Why all these damn tests?" The enraged knight beleaguered the other recruit,"Have I not earned my place?!"

"Perhaps it's tradition. Maybe they're just trying to annoy you."

"All I know is that I have a wife and a child back in Highev—"

"So what?" Daveth let his irritation seep into his tone,"I'd sacrifice a lot more than my family if i knew it would end the Blight!"

"But—" Jory was cut off as Fylion joined the conversation.

"Ughh, is all you know how to do is to whine and be a coward? I thought you were supposed to be a knight or some nonsense. Or do they just make anyone who can swing a sword a knight in Highever nowadays?"

"I AM a knight!"

"Then bloody act like one or I'll cut that wagging little tongue of yours out of your throat." She showed the glint of her knife's blade from her sleeve,"You've been giving me a headache since the Wilds."

Jory opened his mouth to speak, but then glanced at the knife again, remembering the soldier Fylion killed back in the Wilds. He was silent until Duncan arrived.

* * *

Duncan stode into the ruins among the group, his hand holding a silver chalice, the other a large vial full of a red, viscous liquid,"The Grey Wardens were founded when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation. That is when the first Wardens drank of darkspawn blood...and mastered its taint."

"We're going to drink the blood of those...those creatures?" Jory was open-mouthed in horror. He was ignored as Duncan went on.

"We speak only a few words before the Joining, but they have been said since the first. Alistair, if you will…"

Alistair bowed his head and closed his eyes,"Join us brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day, we," He looked up at the three recruits,"shall join you."

As Alistair finished the oath, Duncan lifted the silver chalice for all to see.

"Daveth, step forward." Duncan's voice was as sharp and as deadly as a knife.

Daveth looked at Fylion and then at Jory, "Well, in for a silver in for a crown, as me old mum used to say!" Lifting the chalice to his lips he drank the foul liquor. He immediately doubled over, a scream gurgling in his throat before he collapsed to the ground.

Alistair was at his side in an instant, rolling him onto his back and checking his pulse.

"The Taint hit him hard, but he'll live." Daveth's body was limp as he was dragged to the side.

Refilling the chalice, Duncan held it aloft again,"Jory, step forward." His voice was the same as before.

Jory looked at the chalice, his quavering hand drawing out the knife in his belt,"No. No, you ask too much! There is no glory in this!" He brandished the knife at Duncan.

"There is no turning back..." Duncan's voice was cold now, his eyes slits as he drew his sword. Dashing forward, he deftly disarmed Jory and stabbed him through. A single groan fell from the knight's lips as he fell to the ground, clutching his wound. Duncan brought his sword down through Jory's neck, killing him instantly.

Wiping the blood from his sword and picking up the spilled chalice, he refilled it a third time,"Fylion, step forward."

Every bone in Fylion's body told her to run, to fight, to resist this. But she looked at Jory's dead body. Glancing behind her, Alistair was standing in front of the doorway. Running or fighting wasn't an option. She would have to do this. She would have to go through with it. As Duncan said to Jory, there was no turning back.

She made her way forward, her pale hand gripping the cold, metal handle of the chalice. She brought the cup to her lips, the metallic, sickly smell of the blood brought tears to her eyes and her stomach to churn. She took a single draught and dropped the chalice, her hands grasping at her throat madly as the blood traveled down her throat.

She felt her eyes roll back into her head and then all was silent.

* * *

The sky was dark, the edges of her visions blurred. Everywhere she could hear a deafening roar. Looking up, she saw it. A hideous being, twisted and malformed, bloody and pale. A dragon with black, lifeless eyes staring straight back at her.

She tried to scream, but nothing happened.

It reared back its head and unleashed a terrifying roar, and then the darkness consumed Fylion.

* * *

Fylion awoke on the stone floor of the ruin, her head swimming as she struggled to stand, her throat still burning from the darkspawn blood. Duncan stood waiting.

"It is finished. Welcome."

"Only one death out of three. That's not too bad. The same as my Joining but still...horrible." Alistair remained silent as he delved into his own thoughts.

"How do you two feel?"

Fylion rubbed at her throat, it felt like she drunk fire,"I'll be fine." she tried to sound contemptuous, but winced as her throat flared in pain.

"I'm not doing too bad meself." Daveth coughed a bit,"So long as you don't plan on makin' us do that again."

"I had a dream...or...a vision…"

"Such dreams come as you begin to sense the darkspawn. In time, you will learn to block out most of them, perhaps even understand them to a point." Duncan walked over near the exit to the ruin,"Take some time to rest. When you two are ready, I want you to head back to the campfire to await me. Understood?"

"Where are you headin' off to?"

"I am attending a meeting with the king and Teyrn Loghain. We will review the plan for the battle. When I come back, I will give you your instructions." And with that, Duncan left the group, heading north.

Alistair stretched his shoulders back as he stood up,"Well I'm going to be by the campfire if you two need me. See you in a bit."

As the soft clinks and clunks of Alistair's armor faded away, the two remained quiet.

"Well that was sure somethin' wasn't it?" Daveth remarked. He seemed uncomfortable in the silence.

"Did you see a dragon?" Fylion ignored his question. She knew it was one he already knew the answer to.

"No dragons, but I saw a horde of darkspawn. Thousands upon thousands of them." Daveth shuddered,"I expect I'll be seein' them in real life soon enough." Daveth seemed eager to change the subject,"Y'know I forgot to ask you when we were in the Wilds, how old are you? If you don't mind me asking."

"I'm nineteen. You?"

"Heh heh, thanks for not smackin' me upside the head. That's what women usually do when I ask em that. I'm twenty three. Born and raised in Denerim where I picked pockets for a living."

"I lived in Lothering until I was eight. Then I was sent to the Circle where I lived until this past week."

Another awkward silence set in as neither Fylion nor Daveth was willing to further the stilted conversation.

"I imagine we should get to the camp now. Sitting by a fire sounds pretty good at the moment."

Daveth cast a glance at Jory's body and the pool of blood welled underneath it,"Yeah. It doesn't feel very calming sitting here anyway."

* * *

It was an hour before Duncan arrived back at the camp. His demeanor sullen, he was bearing difficult news.

"The plan has been discussed. Fylion and Daveth will head to the Tower of Ishal where they will light the beacon upon the signal. Alistair," Duncan hesitated for a bit as he turned to Alistair,"you will accompany me to the battlefield along with the rest of the Wardens."

"Finally! Three battles so far and I've been kept out of every one of them. I will make you proud, Duncan."

Duncan nodded and brought forth the treaties. He glanced first at Daveth and then at Fylion.

"Fylion, you were trained in the Circle, you know how to handle precious documents, yes?"

"I am quite adept at it, yes."

"I will leave these in your safe keeping then. You must protect these at all costs." Duncan cast his eyes to the south, his jaw set sternly,"They will be needed before this is over."

Storing the treaties in her sack, she asked,"What is this signal we're supposed to look for?"

"When the time comes, a squad of mages will light a bonfire with blue flame." Duncan stressed his next words with the voice of a seasoned warrior, hard and absolute,"The fate of this battle relies upon Loghain and his troops. Your role is no trivial task, understood?"

"Understood."

"Then we must be off. Remember, you are both Grey Wardens now. I expect you to be worthy of that title."

Fylion and Daveth were silent as Alistair and Duncan left. The same heavy, dreadful silence set in. It was the calm before the storm. Thunder rolled somewhere in the distance, followed by the bitter first drops of cold rain.

"Well er...ladies first!" Daveth said with a smile, his arm outstretched towards the tower.

Fylion smirked and outstretched her own arm,"Then by all means."

* * *

**Authors Note: **Okay just for clarification, the grammatical errors in Daveth's speech are intentional. It's just the way I imagine him talking. Feel free to leave a review and let me know what you think :)


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